


Let Me Give You My Life

by LTCookie



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 12:43:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2151168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LTCookie/pseuds/LTCookie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kieren/Simon drabble. Two undead lovebirds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Give You My Life

**Author's Note:**

> Just badly written junk done at 1am... Unedited though it could definitely, definitely use it. I'll probably add more as more is written. Thank you to anyone who reads!
> 
> Playlist (wip):  
> Take Me to Church- Hozier  
> Small Hands- Keaton Henson  
> Silence- Lucia  
> Days- Lucia  
> Work Song- Hozier  
> Is This Happiness- Lana Del Rey  
> Wild is the Wind- Nina Simone

He avoids the scar but he's not really sure why. Simon wasn't adamantly against revealing it, which Kieren supposed was unsurprising considering his au natural kind of lifestyle, but he was tentative in explaining its origins. He simply said he didn't want to scare Kieren if they ever got into a situation where it would be visible. Then Simon sat in silence as he allowed Kieren to examine it, fingers occasionally brushing over the ridged edges in light touches.

They didn't talk about it much after that. Kieren could see that Simon would rather not explain, so he left it alone. But sometimes, as they lay next to each other in bed, Kieren would imagine all sorts of terrible scenarios involving horrible torture at the hands of the ULA, which usually ended in him rolling over to nestle himself into Simon's chest and try to push it from his mind. It was hard to let it go.  
But he had to, for Simon's sake. Kieren would be there when he was ready.

~~~  
They couldn't do much other than kissing and touching, considering the lack of blood flow, but sometimes touching could be enough. Having died just a baby, that was really all Kieren knew anyway. Fooling around with Rick when he was too drunk to remember that he was "straight". Stolen kisses in the darkness so no one could see.  
But with Simon, it was a fearless touch. In some ways, anyway- it could still be utterly nerve racking to peel off his shirt in front of anyone but a mirror (and Amy, once or twice), but at least he didn't have to fear a bullet in his head for kissing Simon, like he did with Rick. It felt free.  
But Simon was kind and steady, full of murmured assurances and soft kisses that made his tummy jerk like he forgot it could.  
The first time, they were watching a bad movie on the couch in the bungalow. The volume was so low they could hear the crickets outside and every rustle of clothing. Kieren lay on top of Simon, head snuggled against his chest while Simon played with his hair and kissed his temple. It was soothing for awhile, but he started to a feel jumpy, and snogging seemed like a better idea than anything else on the planet. So they did that for awhile. And then hands slid under shirts and all of a sudden Simon's was off, and that was very fun. And then Kieren's was gone, which he didn't remember losing too well but he did get butterflies in his tummy about.  
"Is this alright?" Simon asked.  
"S' alright."  
"Do you want to go to the bedroom?"  
"Yeah, alright."  
So Kieren and Simon snogged all the way to the bed. Kieren was eager in his movements, but he got ahold of Simon's waistband, and slowly undid buttons and pushed them down. Simon watched Kieren as he did this, as intense as ever, before leaning back into fervent kisses.  
"I know we can't do anything," Kieren whispered, with his lips to Simon's ear, "but let's just..."  
He didn't say much more.

Simon stayed awake after they finished. Kieren got tired, and movements slowed, touches waned, and then they just lay beside one another, bodies entangled. Simon's attention went back and forth from the stars out the window to his boyfriend beside him, making little noises and twitches. But after awhile, he only focused on Kieren. He was infinitely more beautiful than any of the stars.

~~~  
"You're gorgeous," Simon will tell him all the time. When clothes are gone, and they curl together beneath the sheets, and all there is is Simon's pretty words.  
In the bathtub, facing each other and neatly fit together, stomachs aching from laughter over bubble beards, and there it'll be.  
"You're unbelievable."  
Finished off with splashes and quite a lot of soapy water on the floor.  
A paintbrush in his hand and colors smeared across his front, and Simon will wonder why Kieren's painting a canvas, when the painter is the real masterpiece.  
"God, I love you," Simon will growl, lips brushing against his ear, and the only other sounds are unintelligible.  
"Are you trying to brainwash me?" Kieren teased one day. "Make me like what you say about me so much that I'll never leave you?"  
Simon didn't really say anything, but he contemplated.  
"I don't know what I'd do if you left," he finally said, "but I don't want you to feel obligated to stay."  
"No," Kieren decided, "I'll stay. You're kinda cute."

~~~  
He didn't feel the hand on his shoulder. He didn't hear Simon's soothing words.  
He felt his body screaming at him, howling from deep within his bones, begging for him to put down the knife. He'd forgotten about that. How scared he had been.  
Mostly what he remembered, if he thought back on it, was the hell he was in. His life was flames licking up his insides and bugs crawling under his skin, pain rattling in his chest like a bear fighting its way out of a cage. God, it hurt so bad, he didn't how the pain alone didn't kill him. The grief was so overwhelming that it hit him in waves, slamming him back against a wall and breaking his skull over and over. It was agony.  
He was fucking freezing, under all his layers, and he couldn't really breathe because his throat was so tight. He had cried so much, screamed so much, that his voice had all but left him, and his body ached with dehydration along with everything.  
Why did he go to the cave? He couldn't really answer. His brain had disconnected itself somewhere on the way from the house to the cave.  
His name scrawled on the wall.  
Rick's name scrawled on the wall.  
Rick in pieces in some foreign country and-  
His brain started screaming, screaming. It was so loud in his head that it may have actually been his voice making the noises but he couldn't tell. It was just so loud.  
STOP! STOP!  
And then the knife was in his hands- and he remembered. He'd put in his pocket before he came. The knife had been meant to take him away. To fucking end it.  
Nothing meant anything.  
Fuck art school. Fuck Bill Macy, fuck his family, fuck the fucking world and his fucking life because he was a fucking monster. He was a fucking monster. He'd gotten the boy he loved more than anything in the fucking world killed. It was his fucking fault and that was never going to change. He was going to have to live his entire fucking life knowing that he killed his lover.  
Kieren Walker is a monster.  
What he was doing was going to make that all go away. No more monster.  
Oh god, he could remember the exact moment he wanted to stop living. The moment that phone rang, oh god, his suit laid out across the bed, oh god oh god oh god oh god-  
There was a lot of blood. There was blood everywhere. His final work of art.  
"Kieren? Kier, please."  
He's supposed to be dead.  
But instead he's screaming.  
There's someone with him.  
Simon?  
"Kieren, please come back to me, love."  
Oh, he sounds worried.  
"Simon," was all Kieren could manage. But there were hands cupping his face, holding him close.  
"I've got you, Kieren."

~~~  
It was dark outside, misty and cold, and they lay together in bed curled against one another. Neither slept even though that had been laying for hours in the darkness, despite their eyes-closed-slow-breathing illusion of slumber. They both were consumed by thought.  
"Simon?"  
"Hmm?"  
"What was sex like? When you were living?"  
Simon's eyes opened, and he looked down to see what he could of Kieren's face.  
"You never...?" He trailed off. Kieren shook his head. He'd only been eighteen when he died, and tied to a boy who would always get so close before breaking. Rick would never have done that with him. And Kieren couldn't go to someone else, even after Rick died. He just couldn't do that.  
So sure, he got the touching, the feeling that two lovers might share, but he would never know the actual act of sex. Curiosity got the better of him.  
And Simon had a way with words.  
"To be honest, Kieren, sex was the same as the drugs to me. It was there to make me float on the surface as long as I could before I got pulled back under. It was... It was soulless, in a way. I wanted my fix, I got it, and later I went back for more. I wasted it."  
Simon brushed his fingers through Kieren's hair and pressed his lips to his forehead.  
"But sex with you, well, what we do... It's everything. Every moment I spend touching you puts me on a cloud higher than any drug could ever take me."  
Simon smiled, and kissed Kieren's mouth lightly.  
"Is that what you wanted?" He asked. Kieren pulled himself tighter against Simon, his cheek against his shoulder.  
"As lovely and poetic as that was," he murmured, "I meant more along the lines of... what goes on during. I want to know what it feels like to have someone that... That close to you..."  
Simon thought on that for a moment.  
"It's warm. Lots of warmth. Skin touching everywhere, lips everywhere. And it feels good, god it feel good."  
He pulled Kieren in tight.  
"It feels so good that you might be breaking apart, and sometimes you just want to yell and yell because you didn't even know anything could be that wonderful.  
And you just move yourself and you howl and you forget everything except for there's this person here making you feel so good..."  
Simon is still, lost in memory. Kieren spreads his palm across Simon's chest, soaking in his words, picturing everything as well as he can. Trying to piece together the pleasure everyone seems to be so eager for.  
"Is it slippery?" Kieren finally asks, wrinkling his nose. Simon laughs.  
"Yes, it's slippery."

~~~  
Kieren makes him feel. Kieren sends prickles down his arms and waves of heat through his body with a laugh or a kiss, and twists his stomach into knots.   
He'll trail his fingers on the dead skin of his stomach and suddenly his heart is in his throat, his tummy squirming with nerves. They slide against each other, they kiss and touch and he feels like Adam in the garden of Eden, with white sunshine trailing down his back and spilling onto the earth.   
He'll worship his lover in bed, every moan and breathe and cry is a prayer, but what more could he pray for? He was alone with the boy who brought him back to life. He'd gotten all he needed.   
He felt like he was ten feet off the ground.   
Why had he ever turned to drugs?


End file.
